The Judgement of the Bat
by GaigeStewart
Summary: When Skynet sends a T800 Terminator back in time to kill Gotham City resident Sarah Connor, she and her protector, Kyle Reese, must join forces with the Dark Knight himself in order to defeat the cyborg assassin. Story told in three parts.


Gaige Stewart

The Judgement of the Bat

Part 1

Chapter 1

May 12, 1984

3:37 AM

By Gotham City standards, it had been a quiet night. There was the occasional scream, the sound of sirens in the distance, the screech of a cat, but little else. In a dark alley, two tweakers peacefully made a drug exchange. Suddenly, a crackling sound filled the air. An orb of energy appeared, shooting out electricity. The men sook refuge behind a rusted dumpster. When the crackling ceased, they dared to look up at the orb, only there was no longer any orb. In its place, there was a man, completely naked, kneeling in a circle of charred blackened concrete. He rose, and observed his surroundings, his large muscle rippling in the moonlight. His stare locked onto the two men, who had abandoned their hiding place and had begun to walk towards him.

"You look like a man who's out to get a little action." Said one as he started to unzip his pants. "Well sir, today is your lucky day." His partner chuckled, as they begin to circle around the figure. The figure stared at them, his face expressionless, unreadable.

"Your clothes." He said. "Give them to me, now."

"I don't think you're in the position to be calling the shots." said the first man, as he pulled out a switchblade. He advanced and thrusted it towards the figure's stomach. Like lightning, the figure caught the man's wrist before the knife could find its mark, and effortlessly snapped his arm. The attacker fell to the ground screaming in pain. His partner charged forward, but received a backhand to the head, which sent him flying into the nearby wall. He slumped against the brick, his neck broken. The figure looked down at the man on the ground, who was busy staring at the bone protruding from his forearm and whimpering.

"Give me your clothes." he commanded. This time the tweaker was all too happy to oblige.

Liam Bruges never saw himself becoming a security guard at Arkham Asylum. He had wanted to be an astronaut, but lacked the IQ and the money to pursue such a goal. Then he had wanted to be a cop, maybe settle down and have a family; a wife who would cook homemade meals for him, a son whom he could play catch with. He had never desired to spend his days patrolling the halls of a mental asylum, while patients screamed at him, or tried to claw him through the bars, or worst of all, just sat and smiled at him as he walked past. Working in a place like this was enough to drive a man insane. "Perhaps that's what happened to these unfortunate souls", he thought, as walked outside for some much needed fresh air. "Perhaps they just worked at Arkham until, one day, they couldn't take it anymore." He exhaled and watched his white breath slowly dissipate. All of a sudden, the hairs on his arm stood up on end. He surveyed the parking lot, behind the asylum. A ball of glowing blue energy materialized, pulsing with electricity. As a guard at Arkham, he was used to seeing strange things, but this seemed downright supernatural. He descended the stairs, and ran to where the energy sphere had been. In its place was a man, lying on the ground completely naked, his skin steaming slightly. Liam put his hand on the butt of his Glock, and walked up to the man on the ground, unsure what to do. Without warning, the man lashed out, striking Liam in the throat. He then sprang to his feet and tackled Liam. Bruges tried to draw his gun, but the man caught his wrist. The was a brief struggle, then the man pulled back his arm and struck Liam in the face with his elbow. Everything went black.

Bruges awoke with the cold air on his bare legs. He looked down to find himself completely naked (except for his Superman boxers) and his holster empty.

Chapter 2

11:43 AM

Bruce Wayne watched as Robert Brewster, CEO of Cyberdyne Systems, finish his three hour long presentation. There hours of graphs, models, and detailed explanations of how Skynet, a supercomputer that was in the process of being designed, would increase our national security "tenfold."

"Think of it." Brewster had said. "With Skynet in control of our country's nuclear arsenal, we would be guaranteed an efficient, intelligent response to any threat. No more risk of human error. All we need is the financial backing of Wayne Enterprises, and the government's approval, and we would be able to bring Skynet online. So what do you say?" He pushed a slip of paper and a pen towards Bruce. The contract would guarantee that Cyberdyne Systems Corporation would receive one billion dollars annually from Wayne Enterprises. "All you have to do is sign." Bruce looked at the paper and smirked.

"As much as it pains me to say it, Brewster, no." The artificial smile that the CEO had been wearing wilted.

"But… Why?" He stammered.

"I'll make this quick, because I don't want you wasting anymore of my time." said Bruce. "I'm not going to waste one billion dollars a year on a project that is doomed to fail. No one in their right mind would put so much trust in a machine, particularly one that has had so many bugs that it has been unable to pass prototype stage. Years have passed since you started this project, and look where you are now. Your company is in a financial crisis, with no end in sight. And now you want to drag me into this cycle of stupidity, in a last ditch attempt to prove that you're not a complete failure." Bruce sat up and began walking for the door.

"You're wrong." said Brewster. "I'm not a failure, and neither is Skynet. One day, when my program is in control of the largest nuclear arsenal in the world, while you're still stuck producing useless junk, you'll wish that you had made a different decision today." Wayne turned around.

"When that happens, Brewster." he said with a faint smile. "May the best man win."

Bruce descended the stairs of the massive Wayne Enterprises building, contemplating the meeting he had just sat through. Brewster was not wrong; Skynet was not a failure. Despite the bugs and setbacks that had plagued the project, Skynet was a masterpiece, a program that would revolutionize the industry. Bruce did not need the Cyberdyne technicians to tell him that, he had done enough research himself. Skynet was a supercomputer capable of learning at geometric rates. It was quite plausible, even inevitable, that it would eventually gain self-awareness, though Brewster had failed to mention that point. Most considered it unnatural for a computer to be, in a very real sense, alive. Bruce did not doubt its ability to react to threats with efficient and intelligent responses. In fact, it was probably better at effectively using a nuclear arsenal (and the entire military for that matter) than any human being on the planet. Skynet would be (at least mentally) superior to human beings. Once it gained self-awareness, why would it feel the need to preserve humanity? Mankind is the biggest threat to itself, and the environment. We start wars over trivial things, pollute, commit acts of genocide, and other horrors. With a new intelligent, powerful machine in control, would humanity not become obsolete. As Bruce got into his 500,000 dollar sports car, he was almost afraid to answer that question.

"Here's your chicken pot pie, and here's YOUR bacon burger with chili fries." said Sarah Connor as she passed out plates of food.

"The bacon burger is mine, but I didn't order chili fries, I wanted baked beans." said an aging man. "I've been coming here twenty years, you'd think they would be able to get my order right by now." he said to the man sitting across from him.

"Excuse me miss, but we've been waiting to order for a long time." said another customer who was younger but equally impatient. Sarah closed her eyes and counted to three silently.

"Don't worry Sarah, I've got you covered." said Selina Kyle, as she whisked over and began taking orders. She made easy banter with them as she scribbled on her notepad. Sarah had always been slightly jealous of Selina; everything always came so naturally to her. Not just being a waitress but also dancing, playing pool, getting dates, the list went on and on.

"Of course I shouldn't be too jealous." Sarah thought. "My apartment isn't filled with smelly cats." She went back to the kitchen and grabbed plates of food waiting to be served. As she walked in between the tables, balancing the plates, an engine roared outside. Startled, she tripped, sending the food and the plates smashing to the ground. "Shit." she mumbled under her breath as she bent down to clean up the mess. As she scooped it up, she glanced outside just in time to catch a glimpse of Bruce Wayne screaming past in a Lamborghini. "The privileged one percent." she thought. How was it that he got to smooch off his parents seemingly infinite savings while she had to work 60 hour weeks just to make rent and put food on the table. He probably made more in one day than she made all year. But it was all about perspective. She had a steady job the didn't require her to get high, or strip, or have forced sex with someone. In Gotham City terms, she was lucky. "Why did I come here?" she thought. "Why did I move to a city where murder and suicide are daily occurrences? Why do I live in a city where prostitution is the average girls first (and sometimes last) job? Why do I live in a city that idolizes someone who dresses up like a flying rodent and beats up criminals? Why do I live in a city where that vigilante is the one person who might come to my aid if I get mugged or raped is some dark alley. Why?"

Chapter 3

2:16 PM

The Terminator stepped out of its stolen Ford pickup, and began walking towards a house. 47737 Hawking Street, the address of the second Sarah Connor to appear in the phone book. The T800, model 101, had already terminated Sarah Ann Connor; Sarah Louise Connor was next. It had been ten standard hours since the terminator had been dispatched and sent back in time through the time via the time displacement equipment. The terminator had acquired clothing, a vehicle, weapons, and the addresses of all three potential targets, of which only two were left. Once they were eliminated, it could access a list of secondary targets who were scheduled for termination. It walked up to the door and knocked. A woman opened the door partially, leaving it secured with a chain. "What is it?!" she snapped.

"Sarah Connor?" the machine asked.

"Yes?" In one motion, the terminator kicked down the door and advanced into the house, drawing its AMT Hardballer .45 Longslide pistol, and training the beam right between her eyes. Connor had just enough time to register what was happening and open her mouth to scream, when the bullet went through her head. Her body fell to the floor, and the machine fired five more rounds into it. It then bent down, checked for a heartbeat, found nothing, and left the house searching for its next target.

4:22 PM

Jim Gordon rubbed his hands through his graying hair as he read through the endless crime reports that were piled on his desk. An armored truck carrying millions of dollars to Gotham City Bank had been hijacked. Half the money had been stolen, the other half burned. Harvey Dent (Gordon would not call him by his second name) had escaped from Arkham almost a week ago. Batman had speculated that he had been assisted by Alberto Falcone, son of the legendary, but deceased, Carmine "The Roman" Falcone. Alberto was attempting to rebuild the family empire, ironically, with the help of the one man who had been so obsessed with bringing it down. The drug lord, Jonathan Crane, had infected an entire gang with his drug toxin. Gordon had felt no pity when he saw the men being wheeled into Gotham General, screaming about things no one else could see; for these were the very same men who had kidnapped and raped two high school girls last week. Suddenly, Detective Ramirez came into the office with a file in his hand. "Commissioner, I think you need to see this." said the young detective as he handed Gordon the file. Gordon opened it up and saw the name and picture of a murder victim; an aging, overweight woman.

"Tell me there is some significance to this Ramirez." In a city like Gotham, murder was regular, expected even.

"Look at the name." Gordon did so and instantly put it together. Sarah Louise Connor. The name was nearly identical to another dead women who had been found only three hours before. "Not only that," said Ramirez. "but the names appear in the same order that they are listed in the phonebook."

"Are there anymore Sarah Connors."

"Yes. One more." Gordon sat down, almost relieved. In Gotham, a city filled with "super villains" like the Joker, someone as predictable and "normal" as a phone book killer was close to being a blessing. On top of that, Gordon believed he might actually be able to save the last Sarah Connor.

"Send a cruiser to her address." said Gordon. "And get me her phone number.

Chapter 4

7:03

Kyle Reese sat in a stolen sedan in the parking lot outside Sarah's apartment, which he had seen her enter just a few minutes ago. Reese was unsure of how to make first contact with Connor. If she had heard of the other two murders of her namesake, than she would undoubtedly believe that he was the killer, which would make his job of protecting her that much harder. Even if she was unaware of the other two murders, if she had any brains, she would not allow him to take her out of the city like he planned. If you could survive in Gotham City, you didn't step into cars with random men, especially men with ratty clothes, unauthorized firearms, and an unbelievable story. Of course, that encompassed half the men in Gotham. Reese could hardly believe his story himself; less than 24 hours ago (depending on your perspective on time) he and a group of resistance fighters lead by Connor had stormed Skynet's primary base of operations and smashed its defense grid. Before Connor, humanity had been on the brink of extinction; leaderless, humans were picked off by hunter killers, or worse, rounded up to work in camps. Reese hadn't experienced any of this, he had been hiding in a safe shelter with his father. His father had said that they were waiting for someone, a man who would unite humanity. John Connor was that man. With him as a leader, mankind rose up and formed the Resistance. That was when Reese and his father had made the trip across the country to join Connor, a trip that only Kyle survived. When Kyle arrived, he joined the Resistance and soon became Connor's right hand man. It had been a miracle, seeing mankind all fighting for a common goal, to see the almost messiah-like Connor teach them how to smash the machines. I had not been easy, especially when Skynet began producing terminators that could infiltrate human bases. But eventually the Resistance triumphed, and Connor smashed Skynet's defense grid. That was when they realized that Skynet had sent a terminator back to try to kill Connor before he even existed. If they succeeded, then there would be no John Connor, no Resistance, no human victory. The machines would win. And so Connor had sent back Reese to protect his mother. Then they had destroyed the "time displacement equipment" so no one or nothing else could go through. This was the most critical mission Reese had ever been assigned, one that would determine whether or not the machines could rewrite history. As Kyle watched the apartment complex, he saw Connor walk out. She jumped onto an electric bike and began to drive away. Reese waited for a couple seconds and then began to follow.

8:17 PM

Selena Kyle had planned on it being a typical night; she would watch some TV, maybe catch a little shut eye, and then begin to prowl the Gotham City rooftops as the Catwoman. There were plenty of things to stick her paws into, plenty of things to steal. She may even get to say hello to Batman. Selena smiled at the thought, as she sat down in front of her crappy television with a bowl of thin mints. She flicked in on just in time to catch a report by Vicki Vale. "Oh spare me." she said but before she switched the channel something caught her attention. "...and we just got report of a second Sarah Connor shot dead inside her house. Police believe that both murders were committed by the same man, a phone book killer, seeing as the killings are in the same order that the Sarah Connors are listed in the phone book. On a more important note, former District Attorney Harvey Dent also known as…" But Selena was no longer listening. Someone was hunting down and killing Sarah Connors. Why? The Sarah Connor she worked with had no enemies, as far as she knew. She was a little bit awkward, a little clumsy, but all in all quite pleasant and down to earth. And quite frankly, she was not important enough for anyone to hire a hitman or assassin to take her out. Had Sarah Connor been the name of some random psychopath's abusive mother? It didn't matter, Selena's plans for the night had changed. She began to suit up, the tight material of her costume making her figure stand out. She grabbed her whip and headed for the window. Sarah was her friend, and she wasn't going to let her get snuffed out of existence by some psychotic "phonebook killer". That's what friends were for.

Bruce Wayne grunted as he benched 800 pounds, sweat beading up on forehead. "...nine...ten" he counted in his head. He set down the weight and did a quick four laps around the massive gymnasium built in the Batcave. He then quickly climbed the 50 foot high rope in the center, without feet.

"I suggest that you exercise after your date with Miss. Katherine." said Alfred as he walked into the cave, carrying a tray with a large protein shake on it.

"That was my plan." Bruce said with a smile as he climbed down the rope and began striking a heavy bag. "This is just my warm-up."

"Of course sir."

"Wait, who am I dating again?"

"Miss Katherine, sir; the British model who flew into Gotham just yesterday. Seeing as you're Gotham's most eligible bachelor, I thought it would be fitting to meet her for dinner."

"I appreciate the thought Alfred, but as enjoyable as that sounds, I'm afraid I have more urgent matters to attend to tonight."

"And what might that be sir?"

"Dent." said Bruce as he stepped away from the bag and picked up the shake Alfred had made. "He escaped Arkham, and I believe that he is being assisted by Alberto Falcone. Evidence shows that Dent is meeting Crane at the east shipping port tonight; they're making some sort of exchange. It is quite possible that Dent wants some of Crane's fear toxin."

"If I may say so sir, at some point in time you are going to have to get back in the real world and start living a normal life.

"This is the real world Alfred. I will not ignore that fact by trying to hide behind this wealth that was given to me. I made a promise to my parents to save Gotham, and I intend to follow through on that promise. And I can't save Gotham by spending my nights sleeping with random supermodels."

"I was not suggesting any such thing. But I believe that along with saving Gotham, your parents also wanted you to be happy. And socializing with more than just the lunatics and psychopaths of Gotham would definitely help with that."

"I find being in their company to be quite pleasant. Plus I have you."

"I worry about you sometimes, sir."

"I know Alfred, I know."

Chapter 5

10:09 PM

Sarah stared at the screen in silence. The first murder had been a coincidence, she had been sure. So what someone in Gotham had been killed with her namesake. People in Gotham were killed all the time. So when she decided to go to the movies for the evening, she was only slightly nervous when she walked through the parking garage to her bike. But she could not dismiss this second killing as mere chance. Someone was after her. She had left the movies and decided to go to a local bar for a little bit. That was when she had seen Vicki Vale reporting the second murder. Worse yet, but the same report had been given and hour and a half ago, which meant that the killer had had that much time to track her down. She stood up and walked to the back of the bar, where they kept the pay phones. She grabbed one, then paused and grabbed the phone book. She flipped through it until she found her name. There it was, right under the two women who had just recently been murdered. She was undoubtedly next. She threw the book to the floor and picked up the phone, but there was no dial tone. Only then did she look up and see the "Out of order" sticker on the phone. "Oh my god." she said as she fought back tears. She had to get ahold of the police, but the next pay phone was three blocks away in a nearby nightclub. That was more than enough time to get shot. "But I can't stay here." she thought. "For all I know, the killer is one of the people in here right now. I need to get to a phone, I need to call the cops." She walked to the door, her hand on the canister of pepper spray that she kept in her purse. "It's only three blocks." She began walking. The street was poorly lit. There were a fair amount of other people walking on the sidewalk, but it wouldn't matter. "They wouldn't help me." thought Sarah. "Would I help one of them if the situation was reversed." That's when she saw the man, dressed in a tattered trench coat following her at a slight distance. She gripped her pepper spray harder, and picked up her pace. The neon light of the nightclub's sign was about a hundred yards away. She looked back to see that the man had shortened the distance between them. And at that moment she wished nothing more than for the Batman to appear out of the shadows.

"Dammit." thought Reese. This was not going to be easy; Connor was not going to come with him willingly. But at least they were no longer at her apartment; the Terminator was sure to try and acquire her there. Perhaps it was there right now. Connor reached the open door of some building, and glanced back at Reese before quickly ducking inside. There was something in her eyes that Reese was very familiar with, he saw it in the eyes of his fellow soldiers everyday: terror. He reached the building and walked passed without looking in. There was loud music thumping inside. Kyle grimaced, the place was packed with people, it would be tough to grab Connor and escape unnoticed. But he had to do something fast, Connor was probably calling the police right now. He felt the sawed-off 12 gauge shotgun under his coat, which he had gotten from an unsuspecting policeman, and the Glock in his belt. He was dressed as a security guard, with a large tattered trench coat covering him, courtesy of the hobo sleeping in a parking lot, to keep him looking inconspicuous. After about thirty seconds, he doubled back and entered the building. There was a large rotating ball hanging from the ceiling, shooting out multi-colored light, and everywhere he looked, people were awkwardly jerking and moving to the beat. Kyle spotted Connor; sure enough she was at a payphone. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was undoubtedly calling the cops. He hid behind a clump of people. When Connor was done, she set done the phone and sat down at an empty table, scanning the room. Reese was just planning his next move, when her gaze locked on his. She stared at him, her expression one of horror and surprise. Thats when he saw it, the man moving towards her out of the corner of his eye. He was big and expressionless, his eyes locked on Connor. Reese froze and gripped his shotgun, he could not be sure that the man was the Terminator, it just looked too damn human. But then he stopped in front of her and drew a pistol, aiming it at Sarah's head. Connor did nothing, she seemed paralyzed. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion; Reese shoved a woman out of the way and drew his shotgun aiming it at the Terminator. He squeezed the trigger, the shot knocking the machine of balance. Everyone screamed and ran for the door, including Connor. The T800 righted itself and drew an Uzi, firing a burst a Reese, who dove behind the bar counter. The Terminator then aimed at Connor who had almost reached the door, and fired. However, the bullets were instead taken by a man right behind her, who was also trying to escape. His body fell on top of hers and pinned her to the ground. The Terminator walked forward and aimed at Connor, ready to finish her off, right as Reese emerged from behind the counter. He pumped three rounds into the machine, which propelled it sideways and through a window . He then sprinted over to where she lie trapped and pushed the body off of her. "Come with me if you want to live." he said. She looked at him, nodded, and the two ran began to run to the bar's emergency exit in the back. Reese looked back just in time to see the machine aim it's Uzi at them. "That's it. I've failed." He thought, but then he saw something, some type of whip wrap around the weapon and pull it out of the Terminators grasp.

Selina Kyle had been watching from a distance, she was good at that. She had watched Sarah leave the bar, she had watched the man in the trench coat pursue her and follow her into the nightclub a few blocks away. "Its crowded in there." she thought. "Sarah should be relatively safe as long as she stays in plain sight of the other people." It was the should part that made Selina nervous, and she was about to go into the club after them, costume and all, when she saw another man drive up and get out of his truck. He was huge, and he did not look like the type of person that nightclubs would attract. A dozen questions went through Selina's head: Were there two shooters? Who was the real enemy? Why was Sarah Connor so important? However, all of these became irrelevant as soon as she heard the gunshots. Her blood went icy cold, and she scampered down the building from which she had been spying from. From 15 feet up she leaped, hit the ground, rolled out of it, and began sprinting towards the bar. People were desperately trying to squeeze through the door, but she could not find Sarah's face among them. More gunfire, coming from two different guns; there was a firefight going on inside. Selina heard that shattering of glass and turned in time to see the large man fly out the window and land with a thud on the concrete. He was motionless for one second, then he got up and aimed an Uzi inside the club. Selina looked inside to see the other man and Sarah running away. That was all she needed to know. She pulled out her whip and lashed out. It wrapped around the end of the gun and with a mighty yank, she pulled it out of the man's hand. He turned to face her just as she leaped spinning into the air, and kicked him in the face. It had been a powerful blow, but instead of going down the man acted like it was nothing and reached out for Selina. But she was no longer there. She had flipped over him, and as she did so she raked her clawed gloves across his face. "That's gonna hurt." she thought. She landed and immediately threw a roundhouse kick to his head. But before she could make contact, he reached out a caught her leg. "That wasn't supposed to happen." she thought, right as the man smashed his forearm into her knee. Bone cracked. Selina screamed and fell to the floor. The man advanced on her, his face devoid of all emotion. Selina tried to stand up, but her leg would not allow it. It was bent at an almost 90 degree angle, only sideways. She reached to her waist and found the button located on the small tracking device Batman had given to her. In case she ever was in severe need of help. Up until now, she had never used it, she loved seeing Batman but was not willing to cry wolf. But now seemed like a good time. The man had retrieved his pistol and aimed it at her. She hit the button, knowing it was already too late. She looked into his lifeless eyes and for the first time in quite a while, she was genuinely afraid.

Chapter 6

10:24 PM

Bruce Wayne started at the blueprints of the exo-suit he was designing. It was slightly bulky, and he would have to sacrifice some speed and agility while wearing it. The upside was it would increase his strength 4X. It was heavily armored, so he would be able to take small to medium arms fire. There was a beeping sound on his belt. He pulled out the device and looked at the small screen. It showed a layout of Gotham City, with a red dot blinking in it. He zoomed in a saw where the dot originated from; a popular nightclub in the eastern part of town. Catwoman had triggered the emergency homing beacon he had given her. She was known to get herself in sticky situations, but also to never cry for help unless she really needed it. He stood up and ran towards the Batpod, pulling his cowl onto his head as he did so. He had already been suited up, night had fallen on Gotham and he planned to start patrol in a few hours. His suit was a kevlar woven fabric that allowed infinite flexibility and range of movement, while also giving slight protection against blades and small arms fire. It also had carbon fiber plates covering more vital and his forearms, where the three scalloped blades where attached. It cost a small fortune and lots of time to make, luckily he had both. "Alfred, I want you ready to perform medical procedures by the time I get back."

"Yes sir. May I ask why?"

"Catwomen is in trouble." He jumped on the Batpod and brought up her coordinates on the screen. He then screamed through the tunnel and out into the night. Wayne Manor, although in the city limits, was still reasonably far from the city itself. Six miles to be exact. He made it in less than 4 minutes. He sped through dark alley ways and tried to remain unnoticed, but it was still pretty early out, and plenty of people saw him speeding through the night. When he got to the coordinates he saw a crowd of people by the bar, staring in. He walked up to the front door. "Leave now." he said.

"Who are you to tell us…" said one man, until he saw who he was talking to. He and the rest of the group quickly obeyed. Bruce walked in, surveying the room. There was a dead middle aged man on the ground; it looked like he had taken a burst of bullets to his back. Bruce stopped to close the man's eyes before walking on. There were signs of a firefight, bullet holes in the walls that came from two different guns. "I'll have to scan for ballistic evidence." He thought, then he saw her. She was lying on the ground in the corner, her leg snapped, her chest riddled with bloody holes, her eyes blank; staring at nothing. Bruce ran over to her and cradled her in his arms. He checked for a heartbeat, although he knew it was futile. He could feel something growing inside him, something not unlike what he felt when his parents were murdered those 23 years ago. A feeling he experienced everytime he saw another one of Joker's victims, who was either dead, or so mentally damaged that he wished they were. It was more than anger, it was more than fury. It was the unstoppable desire to crush the life out of someone, to remove them from this world in the most brutal way possible, as they had already done to so many others. He felt it in his soul, eating at him, burning away at him. "But I must fight it." thought Bruce. "If I let myself get pulled into that place, I'll never come back." A flash caught his eye, and Bruce looked up to see the Bat Signal illuminating the night sky. He gently set down Selina Kyle (he had figured out her identity long ago, as he was sure she had discovered his) and then stood up. He wiped a tear that was trying to make an appearance and began walking out to the Bat Pod. As he drove towards Gotham City Police Department (GCPD) his only wish was that Selina's murderer was there, so they could have a little chat.

Gordon stood next to the light that shot out the Bat Signal, a light that wasn't supposed to exist. He was not supposed to be collaborating with vigilantes, and officially, his orders were to arrest the Batman onsight. But officially was hardly of any relevance in a city like Gotham. You did what needed to be done. Batman did what needed to be done. He could cross a line the Gordon couldn't, he could do things that Gordon couldn't do. Back almost two years ago, he, Batman, and Harvey Dent had vowed to clean up the city, and bring an end to the "Roman Empire", lead by the notorious Carmine Falcone. But it was not to be. They had brought an end to Falcone's rein, but they had lost Dent. Their white knight had fallen, and was now a more brutal criminal than Falcone ever was. Among the three of them, it was Batman who never seemed to veer off course, Batman who never compromised. It was Batman, a vigilante, that Gordon most looked up to and trusted.

"Commissioner." Gordon turned to see Batman, his cape billowing into the night, becoming the night.

"We caught a man fleeing a crime scene, appears to be a shootout at some nightclub."

"I know, I already investigated it. Two...civilians were murdered. There were two shooters, and they appear to have been aiming for each other. The two bystanders must have been caught in the crossfire."

"The man we caught was definitely one of the shooters. He had Sarah Connor in tow. She is downstairs in the coffee room right now, she's pretty shook up. We have the man in custody. I wanted to wait for you to interrogate him."

"Has he given you anything so far."

"He says that his name is Reese, and that he is here to protect Sarah Connor. Other than that, we have nothing. No social security number, no address, no ID of any kind. He seems to have just appeared out of nowhere."

"I'm sure he'll be a little more willing to speak with me." said Batman as descended the stairs down to the interrogation room. Gordon followed. A few of the police in the building got out of Batman's way as he passed, some even nodded or saluted. But there were other who had disgust on their face as they saw Batman; disgust that they could be affiliated with a vigilante. Batman walked through the hallways to the interrogation room (he seemed to know the building better than Gordon himself), where the prisoner sat, his arms crossed. There was a large pane of one-way glass so that observers could see in. Batman wasted no time, he opened the door and walked inside. Gordon could see the look on Reese's face as he laid eyes on the huge, costumed man advancing on him. When Gordon had first heard of the vigilante known as Batman, he had thought the sight of a grown man dressed as a flying rat would be hilarious. He was wrong. It was not just that he was so physically intimidating, or that he had the gadgets on him to take down a small army. It was the intensity in his eyes, he was no joking matter. So Gordon was not surprised when he saw Reese stare with wide eyes and an open mouth as Batman sat across from him. However, Gordon didn't see any fear in his face. His expression betrayed a different emotion, surprise yes, but something else. Gordon glanced behind him and saw that half a dozen of Gothams finest had gathered around, eager to watch the Batman do his work. "Tell me everything." said Batman, his eyes locked on Reese. "Or you will be sucking your food through a straw for the rest of your miserable existence."

"You're trying to scare me. You can't. I can handle more pain than you can deliver." said Reese. Gordon thought he saw a rare smile cross Batmans lips, but almost as soon as he registered it it was gone.

"Really?" he said. "Would you like to put that theory to the test?"

Chapter 7

10:54

Sarah held a cup of coffee in her trembling hand. She was laying on a couch in the rec room of the police station, trying to sort out what Reese had said to her. Man would create artificial intelligence, which would become self aware and launch a huge nuclear strike against humanity. Machines would rule the earth, disposing of human beings with brutal efficiency. But with the guidance and leadership of one man, humanity would rise up against their oppressors. This man would teach them how to destroy the machines that nearly wiped out mankind. That man was the unborn child of Sarah Connor. And now, an indestructible cyborg had been sent back in time to kill her, to erase John Connor, and with it, humanities only salvation. It was quite a lot to take in. "As if." thought Sarah. "Even if all of it were true, they have the wrong woman. I'm not the mother of the future, I'm nothing special. There is nothing in my genes that could produce a man that could unify the human race." she thought bitterly of the city she lived in, of the people she lived beside, and doubted that anyone could unite them. They were selfish and cruel; you had to be if you wanted to survive in Gotham. But there were a few, a precious few, who were different. People who stood up against corruption and injustice. People who strived to be decent men, even in indecent times. Like the Batman. "If what Reese is saying is true, that's who my child is going to grow up to be. Someone who other's look to, who other's draw hope from when there seems to be no hope left." Sarah smiled. "Only he won't have to wear a mask."

Batman walked out of the interrogation room and shut the door behind him. Despite the initial threats, no violence had been necessary, Reese seemed to be very cooperative with him, though he did not seem afraid. During the interrogation, Batman had thoroughly analyzed his behavior, from what he said, to his body language, to the dilatation of his pupils. And he had found no trace of dishonesty in Reese; whatever he was saying he truly believed. Yet you could say that about half the inmates in Arkham, who were absolutely convinced that their hallucinations were reality. His story was elaborate, yet Bruce hadn't began to consider it as factual until he mentioned Skynet, the name of the supercomputer that supposedly would launch a nuclear assault against against Russia, which would lead to a counter strike from them to the United States (quite an ingenious idea in Bruce's opinion). Bruce recalled his meeting with Brewster just earlier that day, they were designing the very same supercomputer that would almost wipe out humanity. When Bruce looked passed his earlier assumption that time-travel was impossible, the evidence supporting Reese's story was strong. Selina's killer had obviously been extremely strong, to be able to completely overpower her despite her combat skills. Sarah Connor, the only other reliable witness at the time, had even said that the man had taken multiple 12-gauge rounds at close range. Gordon had dismissed this a body armor, but could there actually be a futuristic cyborg out there hunting Connor? Suddenly the idea seemed more and more plausible. "Gordon, I want you and your men prepared for an attack."

"You don't actually believe him do you?"

"He's not lying, and he shows no signs of insanity. There is a sufficient quantity of evidence backing his claims. It is therefore reasonable to consider the possibility of a cyborg "terminator" to be a legitimate threat."

"You're willing to believe a story that involves time travel."

"You can't rule out the impossible, because you never know which of your assumptions of what is impossible may turn out to be false." Gordon scowled.

"Well where are you going?"

"Back to the crime scene. If I can effectively analyze the ballistic evidence, I may be able to tell if the bullets passed through flesh, and then were stopped by something non-organic, such as the armored skeletal structure of the cyborg Reese speaks of."

"Oh."

"I hope your men haven't already contaminated it." said the Dark Knight, as he walked to the roof, and leaped off into the night.

Gordon was frustrated; he should have been home by now. This was his sixth consecutive night of working over-time. Barbra needed him, Little James needed him. Yet here he was. But Batman had told him to stay and "prepare for an attack". Despite the fact that Gordon was police Commissener while Batman was an illegal vigilante, the Batman still seemed to have authority. He always seemed to be right. "Except this time." he thought. Gordon was a down-to-earth kind of guy, who only believed in what he saw for himself. Of course, being a cop in Gotham meant he saw an awful lot, but nothing that would lead him into accepting things like time travel. "What is it that makes you different?" thought Gordon as he stared through the one way glass at Reese. "What makes Batman believe you?" That's when he heard the crash, down on the first floor of the station. It sounded like a car had smashed through the front door. He paused and listened for a moment, and then he heard it: gunshots.

"What the hell?" said a fellow officer as she emerged from her office. Gordon drew his revolver and began descending the stairs. He could here an automatic weapon being fired, shouts of confusion and pain from the police. "Who would be dumb enough to attack GCPD?" Thought Gordon as he sprinted down the stairs. "It may have a huge corruption rate, but it's still one of the biggest and best armed police forces in the nation."

"You think it's a terrorist?" asked Lt. Flass, who was right in front of him. They had just reached the first floor, and Gordon was about to answer when Flass'es skull came apart, bits of bone and brain splattering against the wall. That's when Gordon saw the attacker. He was a massive man in a black leather vest. Glasses covered his eyes and he held a AK-47 and a Spaz 12 gauge shotgun.

"Shit!" said Gordon as he aimed his magnum and fired two shots in the man's general direction. He ducked back into the stairwell just as the man fired a burst of bullets in his direction.

"I got him!" shouted a cop, who fired four well-aimed shots. Gordon watched as the bullets impacted across the man's chest. But he didn't so much as flinch, and he raised his shotgun and fired a blast that silenced the cop forever.

"Even with body armor, he shouldn't be able to take those shots so effortlessly." A chill ran up Gordon's spine as he remembered Reese's story of the invincible machine sent back in time. He had dismissed it as nonsense, but perhaps he was wrong. He heard the sound of multiple people running down the stairs, and turned to see several cops with M16s.

"What the fuck is this!?" Asked one as he jammed in a clip.

"Don't aim for his chest. It won't hurt him." said Gordon. "I'm not sure anything does." The cop gave him a quizzical look and then went to join the firefight. Gordon spotted Ramirez in the group, M16 in his hands. "I think the Batman was right. Reese was telling the truth." Ramirez's eyes widened, and he nodded. "Where is Conner?"

"She was on the couch in the rec room last time I saw her."

"Find her and get her somewhere safe." said Gordon as he began running back up stairs.

"Where are you going sir?"

"To get Reese." He began running towards the interrogation room, but when he got there he saw no one. The chair in the middle was empty and the door was open. "What the...?" Shots rang in his ear, the Terminator (he no longer thought it was a man) was making his way up the building. "That means he is still searching for Connor." thought Gordon. "He hasn't found her yet. I need to contact Batman." He began running towards the stairs that lead to the roof, when he received a bullet in his left calf. He fell to the ground, grunting in pain, and turned his head just in time to see the Terminator walking through the hallway toward him. Gordon cursed and began limping up the stairs that lead to the roof. He clutched his revolver in his hand, his leg screamed in pain. He reached the top and began to hobble towards the Bat signal. It had to be lit. That's when he felt two more bullets rip through his back. He fell to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth onto the concrete. The blood was red, like Barbara's hair. Anger surged through Gordon and he rolled onto his back, aiming his gun at the machine. He fired round after round into the monster until it was empty. Then the machine walked up to him and raised its foot over his head. Time slowed-down, and Gordon saw an image of him and Barbra holding Little James. He smiled. Then the Terminator brought its foot down on his neck. And then there was darkness. Oblivion.

Chapter 8

11:46

Bruce inspected the distorted, bloody bullet between his fingers, before slipping it into a small plastic bag which he then put in a compartment on his belt. Once he got back in his lab he could scan for DNA. He caught himself staring at the spot where he had found Selina's body. When he had left for the GCPD he had contacted Alfred and asked him to come and take her away; she deserved a proper burial, and Bruce would give it to her. But first he had to avenge her. "No." he thought. "Anger will cloud my judgement. Thoughts of revenge will impair my efficiency. Emotion will decrease my ability. I must clear my mind and think only of the task at hand." He went back to gather evidence, in an attempt to recreate exactly what had happened. As he did so, he heard the faintest of sounds. The source (which seemed to be coming from the GCPD) was far enough away so that even with his hyper-trained senses he still had to strain to hear it. Yet it was unmistakable: gunfire. Bruce's blood ran cold as he sprinted to the Bat pod and began driving through the night. 120, 130, 140kph. "I am a fool." he thought. "A dimwit. Why would I leave the station if I suspected the Terminator would track Conner there. Stupid. If anyone dies tonight, that blood is on my hands. If the future is changed tonight, and mankind is no longer able to rise up against the machines, it is on my hands." The sounds of gunshots and screams grew louder. When he was only a block away from his destination, he leaped off the bike and fired his grapple at a nearby ledge. As it pulled him up he could hear the sounds had stopped. When he reached the ledge he vaulted over it and ran to the opposite edge. What he saw would stick with him forever. The GCPD was in flames, but that is not what caught his eye. Gordon was lying on the roof, bloody and semi-conscious. There was a man (no, a machine) standing over him with its foot raised. And then it just brought the foot down on Gordon's neck. There was a sickening snap that Bruce could hear even over the sound of the flames and the omnipresent screams. And just like that, Gordon was dead. The same feeling he had experienced when he found Selina dead ignited in him once again; only this time, he made no effort to control it. He leaped off the ledge and extended his arms. The microfibers in his cape formed themselves into wings, and he glided towards his prey, silent and deadly. The Terminator was loading a new clip into his rifle, but looked up just in time to see the creature flying at him. The Terminator tried to raise its gun but the Dark Knight was already upon him, his hands on the machines face and neck. The force of the impact knocked the machine over sideways, and it slide across the ground with Batman on top. Bruce jammed the Terminator's face into the concrete as they skid across it, then he disengaged himself and rolled away, spinning to face his advasary. The T800 rose, bits of metal showing where the skin had been scraped off its face, and drew a handgun. As it raised the weapon, Bruce hurled a batarang. It stuck into the guns barrel right as the Terminator squeezed the trigger. The gun sparked and failed to fire. Immediately the Dark Knight leaped into the air and kicked the weapon out of the machines hand. He spun around, gaining momentum for a devastating punch to the jaw. Bruce felt a tremor go through his arm as his fist impacted, it had been like hitting a brick wall. But he struck brick walls in his daily routine, and so he was unfazed. The T800 threw a right hook, so Bruce closed distance and blocked, avoiding the full power of the blow. Then he lashed out with the blades on his forearms, opening up gashes right above the machines eyes. "The blood should hit its eyes and dissrupt its vision soon." he thought. He struck the cyborg's neck, then launched off the ground, going for a knee to the chin. But the machine blocked it and landed an uppercut to the abdomen. The blow launched Bruce into the air slightly and he skidded back across the ground grinding his teeth in pain. He had never faced an opponent with this level of strength. Even with his light body armor, which absorbed some of the energy from the blow, he knew he could not go hit for hit with this machine. The T800 charged forward and swung, but Bruce ducked the punch and slipped his arm under its chin, getting into a rear naked choke. He kicked the machine in the back of the leg, forcing it to its knees. But within a second, it rose to its feet again and began to run backward with the unstoppable power of a freight train. He was headed for the brick wall next to the door that lead downstairs. Bruce braced himself. The impact was stunning. The T800 threw an elbow back at Bruce's head. He was forced to release his grip in order to duck the elbow, which cracked the brick. Then the machine grabbed him by the neck and flung him across the roof. Bruce flew 15 meters through the air and crashed into the Bat light. "No internal bleeding. Two broken ribs. Possible concussion. Spine intact. Make it look worse than it is." he thought. As the Terminator advanced on him, something caught his eye. The Bat light must have been activated when he crashed into it, but it no longer showed the Bat signal. Instead, Bruce's beaten silhouette was plastered across the cloudy night sky. He also saw a news helicopter hovering above the building. Filming the fight no doubt. The Terminator was upon him. As it raised its hand to deliver a finishing blow, Bruce drew his grapple and fired it. It attached to the machine's arm and pulled Bruce up and over his attacker. Bruce landed behind the Terminator, just as it turned to face him. But before it could attack, Bruce put all his strength into a side kick. The blow sent the machine backwards over the railing and plummeting to the street below. Ordinarily, such an act would be violating Batman's one rule. However, the rule only applied to humans, and in any case, Bruce doubted the fall would destroy the cyborg. His doubt was confined when he saw it get up from where it lay. "I should leave now. I cannot beat this machine physically, and I have nothing in my immediate arsenal that can destroy it." But instead, he found himself gliding towards the ground where the Terminator was. He dropped a smoke bomb as he hit the ground, and engaged the machine once more.

11:50 PM

Sarah Connor stared out the window of the stolen Pinto into the darkness. It was true, it had all been true. She hadn't believed it until she heard the shots in the station. She had hid under a table, praying to a God that she did not believe in. A man had run into the room and she had braced herself for death. But it was not the Terminator, the machine sent back through time to eliminate her; it was Kyle. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. He had lead her out of the station, hijacked into the Pinto, and now they were speeding out of the city. The gravity of the situation was beginning to dawn on Sarah. Not only was she fighting for her own life, she was now fighting for her unborn son's life, and for the future of mankind. The realization was crushing, making it difficult for her to breath. "Ignore it." she thought. "Just focus on staying alive." She looked over at Kyle who was clutching the wheel so tight that his knuckles we're white. There was sweat beading up on his forehead, and he had a wild, determined look in his eyes. "So what's the plan?" asked Sarah.

"We need to get out of the city." he grunted. "But first, I require medical attention." Sarah looked down and saw the bloody wound in Kyle's abdomen. "A cop got me as I was trying to find you. Stupid bastard."

"Oh my God, we need to get you to a doctor!"

"No. The Terminator could track us there. We need someone else, someone we can trust." Sarah ran through her pathetically small list of friends.

"There's Selina. Selina Kyle. She worked with me at a diner. She would try to help us. But I don't think she could do anything about that." Sarah gestured at Kyles bloody stomach. She couldn't think of anything. Kyle was dying and she couldn't do anything about it. "Fuck, I'm a failure."

"Shut up. That's not helping. I know who can help us." Sarah looked up at him.

"Who?"

"Bruce Wayne."

Bruce ducked under the Terminator's swing and delivered a punch-kick combination to its neck and face. "It is unwise to keep this up." he thought. Besides the fact that the machine was stronger and more durable than he was, it also seemed to have the amazing ability to learn and adapt. It's fighting style, which had started as fast yet predictable blows, had morphed into something with technique and skill. "Its watching and learning from me." Bruce realized. No sooner had he thought that when the T800 blocked one of his punches and struck at his head. Bruce barely had time to block before the metal fist connected, knocking him over sideways. He fell to the ground, his vision blurry. The Terminator raised it's booted foot. Bruce rolled away and avoided the lethal stomp. He got to his feet and pivoted out of the way as the Terminator threw another deadly punch, grasping its arm as he did so. He threw the machine over his shoulder and it smashed into the pavement. He then dropped into an armbar, in an attempt to break the flesh-covered, robotic arm. He thrust his hips up, putting all his strength into it, but the arm refused to break. The Terminator rolled back and out of the bar, and swung at Batman, who blocked it with his foot. The Terminator had its hand open, trying to force it to Bruce's throat. Bruce struggled to hold it at bay, and thought, "This must end now." He drew an explosive batarang and threw it past the T800 where it stuck into a wall behind them. He then pushed back from the Terminator, rolled, and dove away, just as the batarang detonated, sending both combatants to the ground. He looked back and saw the Terminator rise to his knee and rip off its flaming jacket. It's flesh was charred but it showed no pain. Instead it got up and began to run towards him. Bruce stood and began to sprint towards the machine. Right before they reached each other, Bruce leaped up and dove over the T800. As he did so he threw a magnetic tracking device at the Terminator: it stuck. He rolled out of the dive and then sprinted to where he had left his Bat pod. As he ran he looked back. The Terminator had reached its bike and was holding an Uzi that it must have left there. It aimed at Bruce right as he rounded a corner and jumped on his pod. "Bring up the coordinates on screen." he commanded, and within a second, the screen on the bike displayed a map of the city, a red dot representing his target. With adrenalin pumping through his veins, Bruce hit the accelerator and raced into the night.


End file.
